Welcome, Family from Texas!
Ray’s pulmonologist instructed us to have our house checked for mold. He said, “You don’t have to move out, but if they find anything, get it cleaned up. Don’t do it yourself and don’t be there when it is done.”
As part of the process of making sure everything is okey dokey in our 180-year old house, we began having the upstairs fireplaces cleaned last Thursday. Following doctor’s orders, we prepared to get out of the house. The day was busy with preparation for our youngest grandchild’s second birthday celebration that evening. The cleaning was a last minute decision, so I hurriedly gathered birthday presents and wrapping paper in a laundry basket, and we drove to Notgrass History headquarters.
Ray worked in his cubicle, but I didn’t head to mine. Instead of working for Notgrass History during that work day, I set the laundry basket on a chair in the reception area and sat on the couch to finish the last stitches and all the thread clipping on our grandson’s quilt.
When I finished the quilt, I laid it on the floor behind the couch to take some photos. I left it there while I changed my clothes for the party. When I came back, a mother and two young people were standing near the quilt talking to Ray. To my delight, she was a blog reader and her son and daughter had been Notgrass History students. The mama said that she and her family were from Texas and that they had been traveling between Texas and South Carolina. The young people were her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend. The mama’s husband and son were in still in the car.
I encouraged her to invite them in, too. I quickly cleaned up my mess and stashed my things in my cubicle. Soon we were all having a very nice visit while Ray and I showed them around headquarters. Afterwards we took pictures, including this one, which they graciously said I could share.
I love to meet mamas who read these posts, and Ray and I both love to meet families who have used Notgrass History. God was very kind to orchestrate our lives to be unexpectedly at headquarters last Thursday.
The most precious moments of our visit were when this kind dad prayed for Ray as we stood in the room above. Thank you, Texas family, for this precious visit. You were a blessing to us.
But as for me, I trust in You, Lord,
I say, “You are my God.”
My times are in Your hand . . .
Psalm 31:14-15a